


All I Ask of You

by ShadowsOffense



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dark, Darkspawn, F/F, Grey Wardens, Sort-of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2430641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsOffense/pseuds/ShadowsOffense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becoming a Grey Warden <b>slows</b> the taint only, granting the Warden a measure of its power as it poisons their blood.  Eventually, they are called to the Deep Road’s by its song, killing darkspawn there until they no longer can.  There are fates worse than death in the deep places of the Earth, and the Joining is not a cure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Ask of You

_What drop or nostrum can this plague remove?_  
 _Or which must end me, a fool’s wrath or love?_  
 _A dire dilemma! Either way I’m sped_  
 _If foes they write, if friends, they read me dead._  
 _Seized and tied down to judge, how wretched I!_  
 _Who can’t be silent, and who will not lie. –Pope 1751_

* * *

The heat, the sulfured air, the press of stone above them is all but insufferable and yet it all pales against the fact that she can see again, the orange magma below them casting the whole cavern into wonderful relief. In the heart of Caridin’s web of traps, they are safe, protected… the end of her staff is blackened, almost to the core, from the magic she shoved through it, desperate in the dark, but the, the _darkspawn_ , Emlyn’s stomach lurches, bitter in the back of her mouth, in this part of the Deep Roads are all dead and there will be no more from whence they came. _Safe._

She is anything but safe.

Her stomach twists again and she meets the witch’s gaze across from her. The apostate’s yellow eyes are also haunted by the dark knowledge and full of something akin to pity. _Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate._ Emlyn shudders. Yes, Morrigan _knows_ , she’s put it all together; Emlyn doesn’t think the others have quiet managed that yet.

_There have never been many women in the Grey Wardens; why is that, I wonder?_

She feels like screaming. Mechanically, her hands keep moving, skinning the elfroot for Morrigan to grind into paste. They need to take this opportunity to replenish their stores.

Eventually, Leliana joins them, sinking onto the stone next to Emlyn. The warden’s skinning knife speeds across the last two roots with reckless abandon. Neither woman remarks on Emlyn’s haste, although the corners of Morrigan’s mouth curl smirkingly upwards, both scornful and amused. Emlyn can only be grateful Oghren is still out cold as she drops the knife and grabs Leliana’s hands in her own. They help each other rise. But, as Leliana tries to tug her toward their tent, Emlyn pulls back.

As the bard looks at her questioningly, Emlyn whispers, shamefully, “I can’t be in the dark. Please.”

They make their way to the other side of the cavern, behind a huge monolith of stone. Between it, the wall, and the chasm, bright, so bright it hurts Emlyn’s eyes, they are well hidden and it almost seems as if they are truly alone. Emlyn’s hands are desperate, rough and urgent and _they won’t stop shaking_. Leliana captures them easily and pulls Emlyn to her, just holding her as tears begin to force their way past Emlyn’s eyes. Lips move soothingly against her neck.

“It’s alright, my love.”

Mutely, Emlyn shakes her head and buries her face in red hair. _We wait and fear for our fate._ It’s not alright. “I need you to kill me,” she gasps out.

“What?!” Leliana shrieks, pulling back. Her fingers dig into Emlyn’s skin and the mage grips her back as Leliana glances fearfully at the abyss so close to them. For a moment, Emlyn’s memory of Cardin’s plummeting form is silhouetted against the magma. She looks back at the bard, her bard.

“Not now,” Emlyn knows she sounds suddenly suicidal. There is a sharp pang of guilt both for what she’s asking and how she’d said it. She didn’t mean to frighten her lover, but her tongue is thick and clumsy in her mouth, stumbling over her shock and _terror_. “When the taint finally takes over, when it calls me to the Deep Roads, if I make it that long…. You saw what happens to women with the taint; kill me before it comes to that.” 

“I, what are you-” Leliana gasps, her eyes widening.

Emlyn swallows. _Broodmother._ The word hovers, unspoken between them. “You once told Alistair, about dying in the company of a lovely seductress…” the warden trails off, forcing a weak smile to her lips. “It’s cruel of me to ask, but please, my Bard, give me that death when the time.... _Please._ ”

“My love,” Leliana’s voice trembles and Emlyn’s eyes close in relief.

* * *

_Where is my ruined life, and where the fame_  
 _Of noble deeds?_  
 _Look on my long-drawn road, and whence it came,_  
 _And where it leads! –Bell 1897_


End file.
